Not to be dumb.

The early light of dawn,  just broke the clouds and I awaken
I envisage the drips on dreams, to perspire on a sunrise. I'm shaking
In weekend passage. Natures mother massaging an ego of I am the lord
Yet the veins are flowing with hurt and love on a sweet drip of life and chords

Playing on a bass a state a reason why I committed the treason that sent daddy to the hangman
Because I was a loyal, institunialised, duck and dived , sheriff , law silver star lawman.
Turned in my papa, he gunned that woman down and will spend those days in cells
The noose will end the giver the provider of life for me , my conscience? I lived, I hate myself.

But he crossed the lines. And I'm sorry daddy. I know you'll plauge my dreams
As the snap of the neck causes mr respect. The bulging eyes popped in a peppermint scream
Harsh against my own theist of anticipation, bastardised. This whole scenario makes me pretty ugly
Dad?
Daddy?
I apologise for finding you out. I guess you taught me well. In the underlying poverty
The force of rebellion in a destructive silver star, you were the first to invite me
To the party.

Dressed like the clown
One last breath on the noose I drown
With you. But you murdered my mum
And I celebrate your demise daddy. You taught me.
Not to be dumb.

Poet puppet a poet a realm.

I've been a puppet a poet a pal a realm of dimensions
A part of a billion situationist. A posistion a of beggars that breath
And yet, the Parisian ambush in the heart of walkways
In my heart. In my blood vessel of dalliance in dispairing.

Red sails on sunsets. Hives if bumblebees cried amongst tbe cells of
Honey  you struggle don't you, the posistion of just you and I. The
Because and confusing of depth and super confusion.
If you go away. To the tundras. To the trees, to the forest of enyd blytons
Tree of delusion

The folk of the far away
Tree of bark on
My son and permission. I'm here. I'll never let you
This puppet , the poet? The sadness the trial.
 I'm a trial a tribulation a cope of then
I'm continuing I'm trying I really am. a

The rich

Done. The breath you breathe to me
A lover setting free
You never knew entanglement, he thought of  a billion sentiment
I cried every version, the persuasive, the caustic, ice cream dark chocolate and mint

I scream in a migraine over complicating on the abbacus of a Greek calculation
It's the situation, the complete
Fabrication of the  truth the absolute, your Just a Pygmy of a vessel in the blood
Driven eye. I play eye spy. I caved into the realms of multi dimensions do, did, could.


You  are the ephinony of a Parisian light bulb
In a flat above a
Treble
Tribulations? Floors and scores of I hate you I really hate the reasons
You produced the double
The anger. The stranger. You the ephinony. Of a Venetian light
Bulb in a trip of electricity trouble.  I saw beyond the realms of futuristic box and fight and  flight

The very epitome. You then the
Strength beyond my muscle
I hate you, you son of a bitch
The hatred
Of my birth to that last man standing of gold mans standing
Amongst the
Wealth
The rich

Brain matters

All for one and one for natures law
Hanging by a branch the negro slave accused of the eye of the crow
That he succumbed , on art splatters brain matters
Black man. Haunting, the bodies of his ghost just got embellished and fatter.

A soul of deceased trouble? A part of necks tangled in rope
Dope, a reason of treason against the government. The sentiment of the reason why he coped
Intrinsic why his mother cried , against a sun set into it's not my fault it's the white mans anger
Snow on the iceberg, shouting like a fucker. I never realised the hatred from the whiteness of danger

Of sentiment, twist and be a part of the ambience, lighting the edge of ghetto cave
I'm sorry for my daddies twosome, the resentment of I did, I had, I want and I have.
You made me
Into what I became, I'm going to get all Shakespearean
Cream on strawberries but I shouldn't be a part of the spoil. L
Reason,
I'm giving in
Me and you
It's a mythanopic catastrophic reason and I want. I always need
There's a better conclusion. The reason seldom feeds.

between the heart of dark and blackness

There's an unfortunate moment during the step torn passage between the heart of dark and blackness
A caustic iron exhaust ing back fire on a BBQ grilling in the FBI interrogation subtleness
I caved like a bosom filtering milk to the newborn baby , scratched like a foot. against Momas nipple
Creased like the wave crashing on the surf tides crippled ripple.

Their was a she spent time into the creativity of this depth and for gone a rhyme
A misprint on the head of a typing error, an eye over,  applying the mascara of hell bent to the crime
I regret my fortitude the attitude the substitute the cute partner of the grenade
The serenade of a saxophone and a string of guitars , visiting , of my mind standing, and acting on this very staged display.

The cherry breath I taste whenever I ignite a cigarette , the taste of life
No matter the brain, splatter, on the car window, so slow, in intrinsic poetry, a look at dreams and strife
The left of all that matters
Of sinew and haterd, the spasticsted spasms of a man down but not out.

The trial every evening I experienced before the fire logged in timber
The thoughts I crave, the reason I try to remember
But I'm afraid the senility had over loaded the senses , the apprehension
I'm a shadow of myself now the fog has defended upon the lacking of my decision

And into the naked light I saw, amongst the world in which I disappear
This extinguished
Illuminated anguish, a told you so, a clue that you never knew
And all I am, is this
A remembrance of solitude between the heart of dark and blackness.

free style. I never read this before posting.

No one will ever, tell me how to live my life because it's a chapter, bookmarked, ready for
When, you pick up the next sentence, two years after you read the first leather bound
Hard backed saddle screwing with your spine, it's intertwined with a text, a fuck the caustic leather
You don't offer a single dime to me or to the categorically thought process of the grey mind.
Who the fuck do you think you are, your an autumn reason, a life of the varicose leaves browned
By the seasons stress and the scar. The reticent thought process, in which I feel so like the king crowned , in the streets of a parliament , sent into A  plus B equals a lifetime of dubious frowns.
Etched like the son of a bitch that always makes into the recurring, slurring words of a drunk subway
Homeless sleeping bag dwelling, head swelling after being hit by the umbrella fella, who struck in the temple of your head, not the temple of the dead.
There's a fucking situation going on here,  a queer partisan , partying into the depths of insecurity
A real cutie pie, calved into half, like the mother cow who demands that now, is the reason that it's all a part of how.
You're a beast roaming, a storming part of the thunder cloud, a whimsical tornado destroying the farm
The houses blasted into oblivion, you're just a civilian, a passerby, a pedestrian sucking in the air provided for the only lungs Mother Nature knows
I could slow,
This entire shit down, but I'm afraid this first try at freestyle poetry begs me to post
At the most I'll bow out.
I'm a chore master
I'm an eighties boom box blaster
Take it in my will, my sentiment of clarity so stark
And we are all a passage, a sentence, a simple bookmark

Yorkshire man.

I'm a Yorkshire man, proud and quite in a crowd of unceasingly unbelievable silence
I'm the steel factory chimney pouring smoke into the dawns early air, choking, I'm a matter,  an interference
Grandads inheritance of a pocket watch, medals from the ww2 service, never knew what by which he gained them
Was he a brave man with a rifle in hand , was he the petal of crazy standing tall above the stem

Distilled grilled and puff like the dragon of a smoking , cheering crowd of nazi behemoth
Just like me, fading into the background, a sinkhole of obscurity, cut from the very same cloth.
Don't even know which continent he served in, Asia, Europe, a travelling bulett gypsy with no recognition
From the survivors, I fucking exist because of his efforts, his trials and tribulations.

Guilty, ghosts of intrinsic soap suds flowing over my naked and guilty your honour mind
The hurricane, instability of the diagnosed insane, try to be better than the insecure obscured, I can't grasp the intestines of that stomach connected double downed and blind
Through trenches of apprehensions. Am I crazy because of what he did, the composer of aggression
Yet the wizard of sympathy and kind.
It's a maze of thoughts. A bastion i will never scale. I can see the end in hope although I'm clearly blind.

There's a multiplication drumming inside my complicated mind
A need to cling onto a rock face, dazed and wonderment we find
Grandad plages the cells he may have spent time in, thinking he had to get home for the sake of future child
To touch the face of my grandmas cheeks, rough, rouge, he cools the heat reduces the hot to a tepid mild.

All I know is he came home. He found his girl and he reproduced the character of the man you see today.
Took it on the chin, head spin and carried on. Every day I dalliance with the creator of hell, yet I never remember how he created the pottery wheel that moulded the clay
Of my brainchild, that's hidden from today's society, I'm in the trench hole with him eighty years ago on my birthday plan
He stood, understood, created, survived, in his blood, a proud reason, a Yorkshire man.

the dawn

Cello, like a intrinsic surgery and I'm delving into cells, matter, grey, discoloured
Water drowning ducts of tears, I miss her touch, her caress, the lips we both discovered
Amongst ancient maps, gnarled in yellow tears craving the history
Of a lover,  of why we seperated,  why the realms of tomorrow, dictate the eyes of all we see.

The mighty trunk of an oak that no longer sways amongst the siblings of acorns
The bullies that applied the hate and scorn and the victimisation of shoulders wilted forlorn
Attributes of a thousand years, into a whisper, a way to prove that humanity is a part of you
Never surrender the hope of tomorrow, you have to stand true,amongst a lie of sunrises dew.

And there we accept, the glistening of the silver spiders web.
She will entice you in the midnights blue hurt that you've felt since you realised dread
Even the beautiful of crevasses, features, can exist in a cavern that you thought was a scar
Take a step back my love, remember who and if you become and dance in what we are.

Caterpillar
Time traveller
Change of you will be.
We are not a push over
We are not the victim
We are the spine. The back of going forward
We are the meat against the bones
The insteinc part of marrow
We are the beggining of our yesterdays
We are the dawn of all tomorrows.

And never let the thought become, the meaning of the end
For you will always be my soul.
And why I write my solemn sacred friend.

BANG

Every whisky and dry I down , I take on the whole world
Might sound absurd to you my straight laced friend
But insecurity blends in the barrel of my thoughts, toes curled
It is the sunrise of the beginning, it's the selfish self consuming noose of end.

There's a fucking havoc hammock swaying, amongst the coconut trees
A bastardised self scented reason , on a psychological cerebral, sir let me persist
Please, don't fuck this up for me, strength in numbness, set this slave free
I have to carry the basket of life inside of my mind in order to exist.

It's a mountain of fortitude, a sunrise of self analysing internal clock telling the wrong time
Wholly shit brother, there's got to be a better horse to back than this
The answer of the corterised veins and cells that my subconscious trauma nurse did find
I'm laughing like a gigelo in the delicious realm of babies nappy rash hurt and scratching bliss.

Contradict me! I dare you. There's a million other cell based thinkers just like I am
A billion apologetic, static eggs just waiting to hatch from the embryo
You made me draw the droplets on a rock face that's entombed so I can no longer give a damn
Land on the hotel in the Mayfair square, money pouring in but do not pass go.

Slide, like the avalanche, in the Swiss side mountain of cheese thats a billion equation distraction
She never fucking loved you, she was meant as a confusion, until you figured this out
Delve as deep as you want, the pit is a plaster on the wound of a passion
The teapot bowing, pouring emotions, from the Lid of life until the embers of the spout.

Every whisky and dry I down, you ridicule every part of what I am
I'm the courtisan to every situation you provided, a supplement a fucking bookmark
The comic book character. Big a boom and the intrinsically, incinerated, BANG
Goodnight my petal, Bon nuit my amour, the words splutter, on splinters stark.

Normal

Do you want to know what normal is? It's the journey into insanity

It's the same path everyone of us takes. There ain't no such thing as normal profanity 

You live in a dream, a fucking stream , flowing through these caverns extreme

Never know it, the grand mama dreams , of a double knit  crocheted, scream. 

The sunrise its a surprise, dawning,  in a false horizon that we all fight against 

You, the ridicule, you're the reason Picasso did paint

And me? Let me let you into a rabbit hole surprise. Wide fucking eyes 

Displayed lids ripped open, out spoken, denied the quenching blink defied. 

I never inherited a will of power, I never saw the minute ticking hour

The sunset skipped by me one morning, the taste of a monster, the holding of power 

You're still stagnant amongst the preachers congregation, you can't fit amongst the situation

All we needed was an injection of tabloid, a newspaper headline, of harbour and back off patience

The meaning of life is fucking simple to me

It's the purist thoughts amongst a complicated rubicks cube that'll allow you to be free 

Casual love in the nineteen fifties drive through thought movie

Popcorn scorn because of the forlorn, the end of a rag tag hide and seek.  

I'm going to have to interrupt you Mr Thought Pattern , you seem to be playing on my mind

You're fucking with my brain cells of bars l can't put a dollar on the roulette of the find

Me later, uneducated, switch amongst the shit given, unforgiving, coffin amongst eastwoods drive 

Insanity, a gun , aloof, easy to draw, sketch, honey sweet mind amongst the hexagonal mind hive. 

Do you want to know what normal is? It's the illusion the final conclusion 

Your mommy and daddy aren't going to save you sugar, it's a world of confusion 

There's a book mark you have to place , the end of the story

Better off upended, trying for glory.